


Mage Family Reunion

by DualWieldingCousland (DualWieldingMama)



Series: The Other Regan [8]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-22 11:00:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3726259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DualWieldingMama/pseuds/DualWieldingCousland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian’s father wants a meeting.  Regan wants backup in case things go south.  Cullen wants to know why she can't ever seem to remember to take a cloak when she goes walking at night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mage Family Reunion

It was late. Why was she out, wandering Skyhold’s courtyard at this hour? Why wasn’t she tucked into bed, snuggled under warm covers? In short, she couldn’t sleep. Sighing quietly, Regan wandered over to the stables, leaning over to run a hand gently along Angel’s neck. She needed to clear her head. Mother Gisele wanted her to flat out lie to Dorian. A messenger had come from his family, they wanted him to come home. She knew he wouldn’t go willingly; he’d made no secret that he wasn’t interested in the future his father wanted for him. But Mother Gisele wanted her to lie, to get him to meet with this messenger in Redcliff. She didn’t want to lie, not to him. She liked him, felt comfortable with him. It was a different sort of comfort than she sometimes felt with Cullen, or even Varric and Cole, almost like he was family. He reminded her a lot of her brother, Gabriel. She would tell him the truth in the morning, and they would go to Redcliff as prepared as possible.

“You look lost in thought. Can’t sleep?” 

A familiar voice startled her out of her thoughts. She slapped a hand over her mouth so her surprised yelp didn’t wake the horse-master and turned, cursing her carelessness. She should have been listening for anyone approaching. Just because she was in Skyhold didn’t mean there weren’t dangers, right? “Commander Cullen?” she whispered once she’d calmed herself. “I … What are you … I just ….” Oh, that was just perfectly clear, wasn’t it?

“I thought I heard something.” He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. In truth, he wasn’t sure why he’d woken up, nor what brought him toward the stables. Trusting instincts honed over many years of patrolling, he had simply followed his feet, ready for anything, he’d thought. He wasn’t sure that was the case, now. “I didn’t mean to startle you, Inquisitor.” He refused to admit how much it bothered him that she hadn’t dropped his title. It didn’t matter, right?

“Regan,” she corrected softly, biting her lower lip. Maker, she didn’t want people calling her that, especially not him, not when they were alone. She fidgeted from one foot to the other, fighting the urge to wring her hands. “No, I couldn’t sleep,” she finally answered.

He had to fight to keep the relieved smile from showing. It was a silly thing, but he enjoyed the permission to use her name. It sounded so much better, felt so much better to say than Inquisitor. “I apologize for startling you, Regan,” he repeated softly, reaching out to take her hand. Before she could react, he brought her knuckles to his lips, brushing the faintest of kisses against them as penance. He knew he was blushing; the feel of her skin beneath his lips ignited something inside, made him want to do so much more, and he was pleased to see her cheeks coloring as well. Perhaps Dorian was right, in this, at least.

“Cullen,” she whispered, gulping softly. Maker, it had been one bloody kiss of her hand, why was she acting like a fool. His voice was like butter, speaking her name like a caress, making her stomach tie in nervous knots. She had to pull herself together. When he released her hand, she closed her eyes and took a breath, not caring what it looked like at that point. When she opened her eyes again, she smiled, but crossed her arms to keep her hands to herself. “You are forgiven, this time.”

He laughed, moving to lean against the fence as well, thankful they could speak, uninterrupted, for a moment. “I thank you. What were you thinking about?” he asked, trying to sound casual. He struggled to ignore the knot forming in his stomach as he watched her from the corner of his eye. 

“Dorian,” she replied without thinking. She felt, rather than saw, him stiffen slightly, before realizing just what she had said. 

“Oh.” Dejected, he pushed himself away from the fence. He didn’t know what he had been hoping for, but it certainly hadn’t been that she was thinking of another man. “I … I shall leave you to your thoughts then, Reg – Inquisitor.”

“Andraste’s balls,” she grumbled, angry with herself. Why hadn’t she paid attention to what she was saying? “I didn’t mean it like that, Cullen.” She reached out and rested a hand on his arm. “Stay, please?” She didn’t understand why she was so upset at the idea he would leave, or that he sounded so … sad. 

He froze at the sound of his name and the touch of her hand. He knew there was no reason it should have such an effect on him, but he couldn’t stop the clenching in his gut when he heard it. She hadn’t meant it like what? Slowly, he turned to face her, finding her staring at him. Those eyes shone, even in the darkness, and he could feel himself starting to get lost again. “Didn’t mean it how?” he asked softly, willing his voice to remain level. 

“I wasn’t thinking of him, not like I think of ….” She stopped, biting her lip again. She had to get her thoughts together before she said something she would regret. He wasn’t interested in her, not that way, was he? No, surely not. She was just someone who’d been at the wrong place at the right time and gotten thrown into this mess. Quickly, she went on to explain, “Mother Gisele wants me to get him to Redcliff to meet some messenger from his family. He and his family do not get along, though I’m not really sure how deep that goes.” She wasn’t sure Dorian would be happy with his personal life revealed, but she wasn’t going to lie to Cullen.

“Yes, I remember,” he said quietly, leaning against the railing once again. Not like she thinks of whom? Was there someone she found worthy of her time, her thoughts? His arm tingled beneath her hand and he was secretly glad she hadn’t removed it. When she looked surprised, he just shrugged. “We’ve spoken, usually over a game of chess,” was all the explanation he was willing to give.

Her smile was faint as she nodded, glad she wasn’t totally revealing all her friend’s secrets. “Mother Gisele doesn’t think he’d agree to go if he knew what it was for. She wants me to lie to him, just take him to Redcliff for the meeting without saying why.” She finally removed her hand, lifting it to fuss with a bit of hair that didn’t need it. “I … I can’t lie to him, not about this.”

“No, I don’t suppose you can,” he agreed. “I’m certain he’s asleep now, but you could tell him in the morning? If you like, I could accompany you both to Redcliff, act as a … bodyguard of sorts?” Why had he suggested that? He was no bodyguard. He’d even needed her help the last time they’d gone out together. But maybe it would give him a chance to prove himself to her?

“I … I think I would like that,” she replied after a thoughtful moment. “I know I’d feel better if we had someone with us, and I think Dorian would like as few people as possible aware of the situation.” From what she had been able to figure out, Dorian liked gossip just as much as the next person, and could even handle other people talking about him with grace. However, there were things he was less open with, and his family had always been one of those things; the fewer people that knew of this, the better. She only hoped Mother Gisele would be as discrete. “How do we explain your company, then? He’ll be put out if he finds out you knew about this before I could tell him.”

Cullen thought for a moment, unwilling to admit just how much he enjoyed sharing any sort of secret with her. Her trust with something like this was something he discovered he valued more than he should. “Perhaps you could simply tell him you asked me to accompany you without telling me why? I … I am fairly certain he would accept that I would … not question your … my Inquisitor’s orders?” He knew all too well what Dorian would think if she used that explanation, and he’d almost have been correct. 

“That might work,” she murmured thoughtfully. “I don’t think we could bring anyone else without fear of loose lips. Maybe Bull?” She frowned, pursing her lips as she chewed on the inside of her cheek. “No, no. I think the three of us will be fine.”

He let out a deep breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He hadn’t wanted anyone else along. He could have suggested Bull from the start, but he wanted to be the one to protect her if the need arose. It was stupid, he knew, but he wanted her to rely on him. “Will you come find me before you speak with Dorian, or shall I simply wait until you are both ready to depart. I’m sure he will want to deal with things as soon as he is advised of them.”

“Most likely,” she agreed, biting her lower lip again. “I will … come find you in your office once I’ve filled Dorian in,” she finally said. “I will go see him first thing in the morning.”

“I … shall look forward to your arrival, then.” He bowed low, tilting his head so he could watch her. He thought he saw her cheeks flush as he reached for her hand again and grinned. He would certainly have to remember this. Brushing his lips across her knuckles again, he stood. “You should probably get some sleep, my lady. Morning will come far too soon.” When she simply nodded, he offered his arm and escorted her back toward the main steps. As she started up, he found himself asking, “How are your new quarters? Better than the cell at Haven?”

“Too large for just one person,” she replied before making her way to the first landing. She turned and flashed a shy smile. “Makes me wish I had someone to share it with.” And then, she was gone, back into the Keep, leaving him to wonder just what she meant by that and fighting the urge to follow her and find out.

The following morning, she found Dorian in his usual place, curled up in a chair surrounded by books, one open in his lap. “Doesn’t the constant cawing get on your nerves?” she asked, pointing upward toward Leliana’s rookery.

“Less so than their droppings seem to bother Solas,” he laughed, shaking his head. “In truth, the birds are not nearly as noisy as you would think, though the breeze kicked up when enough of them take flight is frustrating. Something on your mind, or maybe … someone?”

She flushed slightly, shaking her head. She actually hadn’t been thinking about him, until the mage asked. “No. Well, yes, but not in the way you’re thinking.” She fidgeted for a moment, trying to think of the best way to approach the subject. “I … there’s a letter you need to see.” She pulled the parchment from a pouch at her hip and held it gingerly at her side, hand shaking slightly.

“A letter?” he repeated, surprised. “Is it a naughty letter? A humorous proposal from some Antivan dowager?” He couldn’t fathom what about that mysterious letter had the girl so nervous. 

“Not exactly. It’s … it’s from your father.” When he demanded to see the letter, she held it out. “A runner delivered it to Mother Gisele late yesterday. She … approached me, asked me to deliver it to you. No, that’s not true; she asked me to lie to you, just take you there without telling you why. I would have come to you straight away with it, but … it was already so late; I didn’t want to disturb you.”

Dorian nodded distractedly as he read through the elaborate scrawl. “’I know my son.’,” he growled, shaking his head in disgust. “What my father knows of me would barely fill a thimble. This is so typical.” He almost threw the letter away, instead crumpling it in his hand. “I’m willing to bet this ‘retainer’ is a henchman, hired to knock me on the head and drag me, kicking and screaming, back to Tevinter.”

“Could it be the Venatori?” Regan asked. “You know, lure one of the members of the Inquisition somewhere alone, then an ambush … then make with the torture?” Not that she’d really consider sending Dorian out alone, even if she was sure it wasn’t some sort of trap.

“Perhaps,” Dorian sighed, shaking his head. “Although, this does look like my father’s penmanship. Or … could he have joined the Venatori?” He frowned and Regan could almost swear his moustache was even drooping. “No, that can’t … well, anything’s possible, I suppose.” The hand holding the letter dropped to his side. “You wouldn’t really send me to meet this … retainer alone, would you?”

“You should know better than that,” Regan grinned, trying to reassure her friend. “I … I asked Cullen to come with us.” When he looked ready to interrupt, she rushed on. “I didn’t tell him why, just that I needed someone who could be trusted to watch our backs. And, he may not be a templar any longer, but he knows what to watch for on the off chance someone tries something.”

“And it doesn’t hurt that you want to watch him, too.” Dorian had to smile as she tried, and failed, to find words to deny it. “Having an extra sword along, especially knowing how you rush into things, can’t hurt.” He glanced down at the parchment again and sighed. “Let’s go meet this so-called family retainer. If it’s a trap, we escape and kill everyone. You’re good at that.” He slung an arm over her shoulder and smiled. “If it’s not, I send the man back to my father with the message that he can stick his alarm in his ‘wits end’.”

She sent a runner to advise Cullen to meet them at the stables. She felt bad about not going to collect him herself, but Dorian was eager to get going and she was much faster than he was prepping the mounts. She led two horses and a hart out and adjusted their gear before handing the horse master some gold to purchase a few additional mounts he had his eye on. She had just finished helping Dorian get situated on Smoke when she heard the familiar sound of a certain someone’s armor. She ignored Dorian’s laugh as her fingers faltered and turned to smile at the new arrival.

To say he’d been disappointed to see the runner was an understatement. He hated to admit how eager he had been to see her alone, even for a moment, before leaving his office. But she hadn’t shown, instead choosing to send a messenger. It actually hurt a little. He had suited up and made his way to the requested meeting place almost distractedly, spending the time dealing with the little worries that tugged at his mind. And then he saw her turn, saw her entire face brighten. He saw Dorian’s lips move and her head shake, and then he found her eyes and everything else disappeared. She looked … pleased to see him.

“You’re here!” Regan darted over as soon as Cullen was close, and wrapped her arms around him. “I’m sorry I didn’t come get you myself,” she apologized, kissing his cheek. “Dorian wanted to get moving as soon as possible, so I needed to get everyone saddled.” She led him over to the other horse, waiting patiently as he swung himself into the saddle. “Master Dennett said Angel was your favored mount?” When he nodded, surprised she had taken the time to discover his preferred beast, she practically beamed in response. Without a word, she pulled herself into Thranduil’s saddle and led the trio out of Skyhold.

They eventually reached Redcliff and made their way to the tavern. The town was decidedly less tense than it had been on her previous visit, and Regan couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to the mages who hadn’t wanted to side with the Vints, as Bull called them. Poor Connor had been quite put out about the magister and Regan found herself hoping he’d managed to escape. “We’ll go in with you, Dorian,” she assured her companion. “But we won’t get in the way unless we’re needed.” 

“Uh oh,” Dorian muttered as they entered the empty inn. No one, not even the bartender, could be seen. Instinctively, Cullen gripped the hilt of his sword, wondering what was going to leap out at them. Regan could feel her fingers twitch. “Nobody’s here. This doesn’t bode well.” Dorian took a few tentative steps in, waiting for something to happen. The sounds of someone making their way down the steps encouraged all three to draw their weapons.

The stranger was dressed in elaborate robes – obviously a mage, even though he carried no staff. He had Dorian’s skin tone, his dark hair. The eyes were close, but there was a warmth behind Dorian’s that didn’t seem to exist in this man’s. “Dorian.”

Dorian froze, glaring at the man. “Father. So the whole story about the family retainer was just … what? A smoke screen?” He suddenly felt very glad that both Regan and Cullen had come with him. His father wouldn’t be able to simply force him to leave as long as they were present. And they were both on edge, so getting the drop on them would be much harder.

“Then you were told.” He looked disappointed, and maybe a little worried. The presence of the Inquisitor could be a problem. “I apologize for the deception, Inquisitor.” The man bowed, though his eyes never left her, or his son. He didn’t seem to pay too much attention to Cullen. “I never intended for you to be involved.”

“Of course not,” Dorian snapped. “Magister Pavus couldn’t come to Skyhold and be seen with the dread Inquisitor. What would people think?

Regan found it rather odd that the magister’s attention so obviously focused on her and his son. She could understand the focus on Dorian, but the mage almost completely ignored the former templar beside her. Surely he would be a larger threat than she was. “It was only fair that Dorian at least have an idea of what awaited him.” She hadn’t sheathed her blades, though they were slightly lower than her normal ready position. “Of course, since even your letter wasn’t fully truthful, there’s only so much I could do to make this fair.” 

“What is this, exactly, father?” Dorian interrupted, scooting back just enough to feel safe, standing between Regan and Cullen. Who would have ever thought that standing next to a templar would make him feel safe? “Ambush? Kidnapping? Warm family reunion?”

The magister seemed reluctant to speak. Regan wasn’t sure if it was because there was an audience, or if he was just unsure how to proceed. “You went through all of this just to get Dorian here, Magister. Talk to him.” She knew Dorian would want to leave, soon. If nothing was said before that happened, they would both regret it.

“Yes, father,” Dorian prodded, sounding snide. “Talk to me. Let me hear how mystified you are by my anger.” 

“Dorian, there is no need to –“

Dorian cut his father off with a quick shake of his head. He turned to Regan and Cullen and shrugged. “I prefer the company of men. My father … disapproves.”

“Well, that explains a lot,” Cullen muttered, glancing toward Regan; she seemed to agree. 

“This isn’t exactly news, Dorian.” She finally sheathed one blade so she could rest a hand on his arm. “I didn’t realize it would be a big deal.”

“This display is uncalled for.” Dorian’s father struggled, trying to regain some control over a conversation he might never have had control of. “This is not what I wanted – “

“No, it is called for. You called for it by luring me here.” Dorian returned his staff to the clip at his back. He needed his hands free to clench and fidget. That stick was getting in the way. “I’m never what you wanted, father. Or had you forgotten?!”

“So, I take it that’s a big concern in Tevinter, then?” Cullen asked, glancing at Regan. He wondered what she made of all this. Was this a normal thing for all nobles, or just Tevinter?

Dorian let out a disgusted chuckle. “Only if you’re trying to live up to an impossible standard.” He wished there was something nearby to hit. “Every Tevinter family is intermarrying to … distil the perfect mage, perfect body, perfect mind: the perfect leader. It means every perceived flaw, every aberration, is deviant and shameful. It must be hidden.” He was caught off guard when neither of his companions seemed all that surprised; he’d thought he had hidden it better. Then again, they could just be lying it for his sake. If his father thought that the leaders of the Inquisition were fine with his desires, maybe he’d realize it wasn’t wrong?

“Dorian,” Regan nudged gently. “Your father might be here to reach out, to make things right. Could you give him a chance, please?”

“If you’d only listen to me, Dorian ….”

And again, Dorian cut his father off. “Why? So you can spout more convenient lies?” He whipped around to look at Regan and Cullen again, pain visible in his eyes. “He taught me to hate blood magic. ‘The resort of the weak mind,’ he’d called it. Those are his words.” 

Regan glanced at the Magister and saw sadness etched in every line. His eyes remained focused on the floor, his shoulders sagged. She sheathed her second blade and sought out Cullen’s hand, needing to feel something solid, something she trusted.

“But what was the first thing you did when your precious heir refused to play pretend for the rest of his life? You tried to … to change me!”

“I only wanted what was best for you.” He tried to explain, tried to validate his actions, but Dorian would have none of it.

“You wanted the best for you! For your fucking legacy! Anything for that!” He turned to leave, only to be stopped by his companions. He could tell what they wanted easily enough. Regan’s expressive eyes said plenty. Even Cullen’s face was easy to read. “Tell me why you came,” he demanded without turning around.

“I … If I knew I would drive you to the Inquisition …”

“You didn’t.” Dorian sighed and turned to face his father again. “I joined the Inquisition because it’s the right thing to do.” His shoulders sagged, wondering how his father could have changed so much. “Once, I had a father who would have known that.”

Dorian’s father looked away, hanging his head in shame. He could only hear the footsteps as his son and the others prepared to leave. The Inquisitor would no longer push him to speak. “Once, I had a son who trusted me,” he finally whispered. “A trust I betrayed. I only … I only wanted to talk to him, to hear his voice again.” He looked up, sadness in his eyes. “To ask him to forgive me.”

Dorian froze, risking a glance over at Regan. She gave him that ‘I told you so’ smile. It was one he was familiar with, thanks to the multitude of discussions as of late. He’d never live that down, now.

She nodded, encouraging him to go, talk to his father. “Cullen and I will be over on the other side of the tavern. We won’t listen, but will be here if you need us.” She gave him a gentle push toward his father, again promising to be well within protecting distance, should the need arise. 

She would have said more if Cullen hadn’t gently guided her away, moving toward a table in a far corner. Rarely were they given a chance to speak without fear of interruption, and if Dorian was the only risk, he’d take it. “So,” he murmured softly as he gently pushed her chair closer to the table. “What … would you like to do while we wait?” He took his seat, shifting so she had an unrestricted view of their mage friend. He could see Dorian out of the corner of his eye, but knew he’d be focused on someone much closer.

“What was Kirkwall like?” She wasted no time in asking questions, glad to have a chance to speak with him without the fear of interruption. She folded her hands in front of her and let her gaze dart between the mage she was supposed to be protecting and the man that kept popping up in her thoughts. 

He realized he was going to have to be more direct if he wanted to find out anything about her. Whenever she was given the chance to take the lead in conversation, she seemed to ask question after question. He didn’t mind answering, exactly, but he wanted to find out more about her. He wasn’t interesting enough to rate this kind of questioning. “While I was there, Qunari occupied and then attacked the city. The viscount’s murder caused political unrest.” He ticked off various events almost nonchalantly. “Relations between mages and templars fell apart. An apostate blew up the Chantry, killing several people, and the Knight-Commander went mad.” He shrugged. “Other than that, it was fine.”

“I’d heard about the Chantry. A lot of people died?” When he nodded, she frowned. “What … what happened after that?” She’d heard a rumor that the Hero of Ferelden had somehow gotten involved, something about family, or close friends, being killed in the blast and hunting down the mage responsible. For the first time in a long time, she found herself wondering what had happened to the youngest Cousland.

“The templars should have restored order,” Cullen sighed, looking at his hands. It was all so hard to think about. “But red lyrium had driven Knight-Commander Meredith mad. She threatened to kill Kirkwall’s champion – the same woman who had driven the Qunari out of Kirkwall years earlier. She turned on her own men. I’m … not sure how far she would have gone, if we hadn’t … if she hadn’t been stopped. I stood with Hawke, the Champion, against her, in the end. But, Maker forgive me, I should have seen through Meredith sooner, stood up to her sooner.”

“Isn’t Varric from Kirkwall?” When he confirmed that the dwarf, indeed, claimed Kirkwall as his home, she asked, “Did you two know each other?”

Cullen chuckled softly, shaking his head. “I knew he was friends with Hawke, but little else. I would see them in the Gallows courtyards occasionally, mostly when she wanted to visit her sister. Maker, that became such a headache as years went on. We’ve spoken more since I joined the Inquisition, largely at Varric’s insistence. Apparently, I spend too much time with a serious expression on my face, and it’s bad for my health.”

“I don’t know … you never seem terribly serious when I see you.” Regan found herself reaching out to gently brush her fingers against the back of his hand. After the initial contact, however, her cheeks grew red and she yanked her hand back, embarrassed. “I … you … I mean, you don’t seem overly serious? You’re usually smiling when I … I’m going to shut up now.” She looked away, biting her lower lip and wishing she hadn’t said a thing. She wasn’t a child, for heaven’s sake. Why was she having such trouble forming intelligent sentences?

Cullen felt his neck growing warm. He wanted nothing more than to take her hand when it brushed against his, but he wasn’t fast enough. “You make me … I mean … it’s always good to see you, Regan.” Maker, why couldn’t he get his thoughts together around her? “You … you said before … something about re-starting templar training? Does that mean you wanted to become a templar?” It wasn’t as smooth of a transition as he would have liked, but at least he’d gotten it out.

Despite the fact that she was less comfortable talking about herself, she was grateful for the subject change. This, at least, should be easy enough to talk about, especially if she didn’t meet his eyes. “I suppose,” she replied. “I told you one of my brothers was a templar, right?” When he nodded, she went on, fingers tracing random patterns on the table. “He convinced my parents that the Order would be good for me. I was a bit of a … I’m not sure what my parents would have called me. I spent far more time with weapons and our soldiers than anything a proper lady should be concerned with. The way Aaron would talk about his days in training made it sound far more engaging than staying at home. So I went.

“I don’t think the templars at the Ostwick circle liked me much to begin with. With Gabriel already there, they had their hands full.” She laughed softly, shaking her head. “Don’t get me wrong. They liked Gabriel. He’s easy to like. He’s smart, too. But my being there led to … confusion.”

“Confusion?” Cullen was confused. Why would her being present at the same circle as her sibling be confusing? Sure, it wasn’t common for family to be housed at the same circle, but it had been done. 

She looked sheepish, brushing stray hair from her face again. “Yeah, we kind of … look alike. Well, we looked more alike before the Breach gave me this wonderful green souvenir and messed with my eyes.”

“You’re family. Of course you’d look similar.” Cullen frowned, taking a closer look at her eyes. “And what did the Breach do to your eyes? They look ….” Oh, dear. He probably shouldn’t have looked so closely. He wanted to just … stare, get lost in them. “They look … fine to me.”

She felt her cheeks flush, growing far warmer than ever before under his gaze. “I … they … we ….” Where was she? What had she been saying? “Before all this, my eyes were kind of … muddy green. Varric finally told me they weren’t anymore. I … kind of miss them.”

He reached out, unable or perhaps unwilling to stop his hand. Gently, he ran his fingers along her cheek, watching as she bit her lip yet again. How he wanted to touch those lips. “No matter their color, I … I like your eyes. I like every -.” Almost as if a switch was thrown, he pulled back, neck and ears turning red. “I … um, sorry,” he murmured.

Could she get any redder? She was thankful he had chosen a table mostly shrouded in darkness. She could hide, mostly, this way. “Um, I … thank you?” Where had she been? What had they been talking about? Oh, yes, and was that Dorian? Yes, he looked ready to go. “I … I think Dorian’s done with his father. Shall we … shall we head back to Skyhold?”

Cullen wasn’t sure if he was relieved Dorian was finished with his father or not. He and Regan so rarely had a chance to speak privately, but every time he spoke to her about anything remotely personal, he stumbled over his words and turned various shades of red. But they were talking and enjoying each other’s company, weren’t they? He knew he was. “I … yes, I suppose we should, as long as you promise to continue the explanation later?”

“I promise.”

“Inquisitor,” Dorian’s father called just as the group was leaving the tavern. “Take care of my son.”

She looked over her shoulder and nodded. She was relieved things had worked out as they had. “I will. He is a good man, Magister. Remember that.”

The return to Skyhold was quick; Dorian remained quiet for the majority of the trip; he had a lot to think about. The others took their cue from him and rode in silence, lost in their own little worlds. As they neared the keep, Dorian finally broke the silence.

“He said we’re alike, he and I – too much pride.” He sighed, pulling his horse to a stop. He didn’t want to have this conversation where dozens of strangers could overhear. He knew the others would stop as well. “Once, I would have been overjoyed to hear him say that. Now, I’m not certain. I … don’t know if I can forgive him.”

“You said he tried to change you?” Cullen asked, bringing Angel alongside Dorian’s Storm. “What did you mean?” He noticed Regan turning her mount around to look at both of them. He was pretty sure she was just as curious as he was.

Dorian sighed, his shoulders sagging. “I think it was out of desperation,” he explained. “I wouldn’t put on a show, marry the girl, keep everything unsavory private and locked away.” He shrugged; it was all too late now. “Selfish, I suppose – not wanting to spend my entire life screaming on the inside while wearing a damned mask of propriety on the outside.”

“It sounds a lot like me dealing with my mother’s attempts to find the proper husband for me,” Regan sighed, shaking her head. She passed the frown she saw on Cullen’s face off as his way of saying he didn’t like the idea of Dorian having to hide who he was. “We had so many arguments about husbands …”

He knew she was a noble. He knew they often had arranged marriages, whether the actual involved parties wanted it or no. But to hear that her mother had tried, multiple times, to force her into a marriage she didn’t want angered him. He didn’t know why it bothered him so much; he’d just recently met her, after all. He had no claim on her, did he? She would never be interested in him, right? But the idea of anyone being … of her being forced to marry someone they did not care for bothered Cullen more than he thought it should.

“Did your mother ever threaten to resort to blood magic?” Dorian asked with a sad smile. When she shook her head, he nodded. “My father … he was going to do a blood ritual, alter my mind, after our last fight about it. He was going to try to make me … acceptable. I found out about it – I had dear friends among the servants who kept me informed. I left, and ended up in Redcliff.”

“Can blood magic actually do that?” Regan asked, looking from one man to the other. Between the two of them, there was a fountain of magical knowledge – both casting and stopping. Someone had to know, right?

Cullen shrugged, disliking the magister, and Tevinter in general, more. “I … have never seen it,” he admitted. “My experience with blood magic was more … trying to clean up after – fending off demons, protecting the innocent from them, that sort of thing. I do know blood magic can do many things, even make a person act against their will or nature, but I always thought the effects were temporary.”

“It … might be able to,” Dorian hedged. “I don’t practice it. Necromancy isn’t the same thing – not by a long shot. But it could also have left me a drooling vegetable.” He shuddered, almost wishing he hadn’t bothered to bring it up. “It crushed me to think he found that absurd risk preferable to scandal. A part of me has always hoped he didn’t really want to go through with it. If he had … I can’t even imagine the person I would be now. I … I wouldn’t like that Dorian.”

“I don’t think I would, either,” Regan agreed, urging Thranduil forward. As she came along his other side, she rested a hand on his shoulder. “I like the Dorian we have here.”

“Are you all right?” Cullen asked, watching her from the corner of his eye. It should bother him that he couldn’t take his eyes off her fully, but it didn’t. The majority of his focus was still on Dorian, at least. It would have stunned him ten years ago, but the mage had become a surprisingly good friend in the short time they’d known each other. 

“No, not really,” Dorian admitted, half-smiling at the Commander. “Thank you, both, for coming with me. It … wasn’t what I expected, but it was something.” He rested a hand on Regan’s as he turned a sad smile toward her as well. “Maker knows what you must think of me now … after that whole display.”

“I still think you are one of my favorite men, Dorian.” Regan laughed as she leaned over to kiss his cheek before finally pulling away. She didn’t see the glower on Cullen’s face nor the smug smile on Dorian’s. She brought her hart around, moving alongside Cullen until they were all pointed in the same direction. “And I’m quite glad one of my other favorite men was willing to accompany us. I don’t know about you, but having him along made me feel much safer.”

Cullen whipped his head around as soon as he realized she was on his other side. He fought to keep the flush from traveling further up his neck as her lips met his cheek and failed miserably. “I … um, that is … it ….” He sighed, closing his eyes as he tried to gather his thoughts. He knew Dorian was laughing at him. He could hear the faint chuckle coming from his other side. At least Dorian knew why he was acting this way. “It was my pleasure, Reg - Inquisitor,” he finally managed to get out, with only the one small catch. 

“At any rate,” Dorian laughed, “it’s time to drink myself into a stupor. It’s been that sort of day.” He urged his mare forward, inviting both companions to join him later, if they wished. He would have to remember Cullen’s reaction to the girl’s kiss. It would make for useful distraction during their next game of chess. It was hard to imagine that he would consider a templar, or former templar, a friend, but Cullen wasn’t too bad.

**Author's Note:**

> In my head, Hawke was a bit more persuasive than she was allowed to be in-game. She managed to put Sebastian off with the promise that she would take care of Anders immediately after dealing with Orsino & Meredith, but ... he escaped. A few months after, Queen Cousland showed up with a few friends and "invited" Hawke & Fenris to join in the hunt for Anders (along w/Sebastian, Oghren & Nathaniel)
> 
> As children, Regan Trevelyan's mother & Eleanor Cousland were close friends and remained so until the events in Dragon Age Origins. They even gave birth to their youngest within a few years of each other. As such, the children would meet on occasion, which is why Regan Trevelyan has cause to even know who the youngest Cousland was.


End file.
